You'll Never Walk Alone
by Lacey Solane
Summary: She was activated. She died. She went to Hell. And now she's out, back on Earth. Well, maybe not "back"... That was not the Earth she knew, and those were not the demons she was used to fighting. Things were different. She's gonna need some help if she wants to adapt to this new world.
1. Chapter 1

There was nothing but pain. Slicing through her, tearing her piece by piece. Faceless torturers played with her skin and entrails, day in, day out. Weeks, and months, and years. And nothing ever changed. The agony was always present, like a cloud of smoke suffocating her. Never-ending.

And the screams. They echoed in the seemingly shared space where their bodies -or souls, she wasn't sure. She could feel physical pain, but it when beyond a slice to the leg or the chest, she felt it _inside_ her, tugging at something that she had never known was there- underwent their torment. They were deafening, and they too vibrated inside her, often more piercing than the physical wounds.

These wounds, she knew they were inflicted upon her. She could feel them scoring every inch of her body, yet there always came the moment where it was all gone and she was new.

Only to repeat it all again.

One would think that after a couple decades of nothing but pain, she would get used to it, that it would hurt less.

It never did.

And then one day, after she had lost count of the time she had been there, something silenced the screams, stopped the pain. Something _different_ came.

And it was beautiful.

Light. Pure light. It surrounded her after an eternity in darkness. It was warm, and soothing. It was soft, sweet, _good_.

Then, it talked to her. She knew it was saying something, she could hear it, yet she couldn't understand anything. Still, she knew something good was coming, that her time was done, that it was _over_.

Her body was new again, her mind was free of pain and shrieking, and she heard those words like caresses to her soul. _You shall be free again. You shall walk upon the earth and live once more. You do not belong here._

She felt herself being shifted, leaving that cursed place behind, and the tug of something clicking together, like two pieces of a puzzle.

She was whole again. The sensations coming from her surroundings were completely different, warm, soft -if a bit scratchy-, fresh...

She could _move_ again. She was free to move!

The voice had told her the truth.

Before she had time to open her eyes, the voice spoke once more.

 _You have a mission. A duty. You shall fulfil your task once again._

Grey eyes fluttered open.

She was alive.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! I hope you liked the prologue! This is my first Supernatural fic, but I do have another fic uploaded, the one You'll Never Walk Alone (YNWA) stems from. It's called The Mini Slayer (TMS), it's a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfic featuring the MC Ally, my OC. YNWA will be an alternative sequel to chapter 24 of TMS, so if you wanna know how everything led to this, go check it out!**

 **Any questions you might have, you can always send them in a review or PM me directly, or go into the facebook page I set up for this sole purpose under "Lacey Solane", it's public and you can always add me if you want, I'll try to answer as fast as possible. There's images and news about upcoming chapters/fics there, some fandom stuff and any other think you guys suggest that I think would fit its purpose.**

 **So, I think that's all. Hope you enjoy the rest of my writing!  
Lee out.**


	2. Chapter 2

Her breathing was laboured, years in Hell preparing her for the worst things, another slash, another burn, and yet they never came. She was alone.

In a motel room.

She looked around, still laying down on a bed, the cheap scratchy blanket like clouds against her skin. The walls were light green, a sickly colour she found even beautiful in her current state. Everything was so beautiful, so light, so... alive. Everything was way better than her previous location, including the tacky motel furniture. There were a couple bags near the door and a jacket on a rusty hanger in front of them. Huh, it looked like the room was occupied. She looked down at herself and noticed she was naked. Why was she naked?

Well, no need for clothes in Hell, right?

She shakily tried sitting up, her arms unstable but strong enough to hold her. Getting up on her feet was going to be a bit more challenging, though.

She held on tight to the wooden edge of the bed and tried standing up, only for the wood to break under her grip, splinters sticking out of her palm.

Shit.

But it hurt less than she remembered from when she was alive. Or maybe her pain threshold had improved. Or maybe it was due to the fact that she had super powers. She still hadn't had a chance to try them out, as she had died barely seconds after receiving them.

Once she stopped thinking about the splinters and her new powers, she realized she hadn't fallen back down onto the bed, and was standing -precariously, but still standing- on her feet.

Now, she only had to try to take a step. One at a time.

Gripping the edge of the bed again -a bit less forcefully this time-, the girl managed to take her first three steps, her knees hitting each other pitifully every time. By the time she took the fourth one, she managed to avoid the whack and smiled lightly to herself. That was better.

And then she ran out of bed to hold onto. The bags were still five to seven steps away from her.

Well, shit.

"Aw, come on, you can do better than this." She told herself, slightly surprised at the roughness of her voice.

Her throat was too dry. She would need to drink a gallon of water when she had dressed herself up in whatever she could find. It felt like her mouth was made of sandpaper and it was starting to get really uncomfortable, now that she had acknowledged it.

As she took another two steps closer to the bags, a beeping noise filled the room, and she jumped slightly, startled, as she turned her head to look at the origin of the noise. She lost her balance and started flaying her arms around, trying to stay upright.

It was the damn alarm clock. 8 am.

She stumbled in front of the bags, stopping the fall with her hands in front of her and slowly kneeling on the floor. She rummaged through the bags and took some men's boxers, a pair of jeans, a grey t-shirt and a green plaid shirt, frowning as she realized she was going to have to dress in all men's clothes and most surely go without shoes. The boots were way too big for her.

No sooner had she dressed -rather clumsily, to be honest with herself- she stood up, this time managing to walk to the door without help. It would take some time to get to know her own body once again, but she was not going to let that stop her from getting away from that place.

Opening the door carefully, she dragged her bare feet out to the corridor of the motel, trying to act casual. She did remember life before, and she was sure that coming out of a random motel room in men's clothes was not the best image to project right then.

She was lucky the motel seemed to be small, as she soon found herself outside, fresh air hitting her skin in a soft caress. It nearly made her cry. She was alive. No torture, no pain, no deafening screams. She was alive and well. She only had to find out _where_ she was and how to get back home with her family.

That thought brought her to a halt. Her sister, her big sister. Would she be alive too? Would she have been brought out of hell as well?

As string of voices approaching made her flinch and hide behind the corner of the motel, her back flat against the wall, holding her breath. She wasn't ready to face people, or anything for that matter.

She stayed rooted in the same position for what felt like minutes for her, but was probably hours as she realized her feet were so cold they were basically insensitive. The sky was clearing too, giving way to sunrise. She peeked around the corner of the motel and saw middle aged woman leaving a duffel bag next to a car, turning around to shout at a man near the door that led to the rooms of the motel and hurrying after him. "Well, look better! I left it on the bedside table, you idiot."

She knew what she was doing was not right, but that was not what worried her most. She had one objective in her mind.

Go. Back. Home. Whatever it takes.

So she ran -her legs much more stable than before after standing for so long-, grabbed the duffel bag and sprinted away, thankful for the grass surrounding the motel and letting her run almost comfortably away.

Soon enough, she arrived at an abandoned warehouse, where she let herself plop down onto a wooden box, the bag resting against her achy feet. She searched the bag for some footwear and money, a light smile creeping its way to her face when she found them both. She had enough money to feed her for some time and buy however many bus tickets she needed. She just had to find where she currently was and how to get back home.

* * *

A few hours later, her feet much warmer since she'd put on a pair of trainers and cotton socks, she found the tourist office of the little town she'd been left in, in _Iowa_. How the hell had she gone from California to Iowa?

As she searched for buses leaving for California, her eyes found a detail that made her blood freeze in her veins.

 _2008._ It couldn't be. She'd been dead for seven years? How was any of that possible? For starters, how was she even alive?

That was all too much. It was giving her a headache. Not only was she across the country, but also in the _future_. Oh, god, her sister, her baby sister. She would be... twenty-two. Her little girl... older than her.

Clutching her head between her hands, she leaned back against the wall next to the map stand in the tourist office and slid down to the floor, hiding her face against her legs.

It was all too much. Too much at once. She couldn't understand what was going on.

 _Why now? Why here?_ She asked herself, thinking back to the voice she'd heard before being taken out of hell, the voice that had saved her.

Why did it save her?

"Miss? Are you alright?" The boy behind the desk, in charge of helping anyone in need of information, approached her carefully, face scrunched up in concern.

"Yeah... yeah." She nodded absently, untangling herself and standing up shakily. "I... uh... I need some information on buses leaving for California."

"Sure, miss. Come, I'll help you. You can sit down on that chair." He offered, ready to assist the strange young woman dressed in men's clothes.

She followed him and sat in the chair across from him, tapping her knees nervously as the boy typed on his computer. "Destination?"

"Sunnydale."

She ignored the light frown on the boy's face as he went back to searching for her ride, yet couldn't help but tense when his forehead got even more wrinkled. "I'm sorry, miss. There must be some mistake. There's no Sunnydale in California." He apologized, watching her attentively, his eyes assessing the odd girl. She couldn't be much older than him, under twenty for sure, yet her grey eyes held an old air to them. Like she'd lived through too much. It reminded him of his grandpa, a war veteran, of the look he got when he was retelling old battles.

"What do you mean there's no Sunnydale? It has to be there. Near Santa Barbara, close to the ocean. Couple hours from L.A.?"

"There no place called Sunnydale, miss."

"But..." How could there be no Sunnydale? What kind of crazy world was she in? Except... "Uh, alright. Could you tell me where the closest library is?"

"Sure, miss." He nodded, taking a map of town and explaining how to get to the library, pretending to ignore her weird behaviour.

As she rushed out of the office, the young man wondered who she was. Despite her mini-breakdown and her nervous demeanour, she felt unusually... powerful.

He shrugged it off, going back to his job.

* * *

It couldn't be. It simply couldn't. _No results found for_ _ **Sunnydale**_.

It didn't exist. How could her home not exist? Where was her sister, then? Where were her friends?

It couldn't simply not exist.

Or maybe it wasn't just Sunnydale.

So she searched for more things. Like... accidents she knew had been at newspapers, or the news, or special demonic things she'd lived through that had been way too big to hide.

Nothing.

Other things, similar and in other places, did come up, yet _her_ accidents, the things she'd been part of? Nada. Zip.

It wasn't that Sunnydale wasn't there, that it had ceased to exist during those seven years. It was that it had _never_ existed. She was pretty sure she wasn't even in the same world, despite it being the _same_ world. Alternate reality, maybe? It wouldn't be the weirdest thing she'd heard of, but it would be the weirdest she'd personally experienced.

'Cause it would mean her sisters, her friends, everything she'd known... it probably didn't exist there, or at least not like she'd known it.

In the library desk, with the failed google search page open on the computer in front of her, she buried her head between her arms, trying to come terms with the fact that she had no one in that world-reality-place. That was how the girl with violet eyes found her, fighting not to cry in a public place, her body swallowed by the oversized clothes. It was probably pity what drove the light haired woman to approach the brunette, coughing softly to make her look up.

"Hi." The woman gently smiled, tilting her head in a way that made her platinum hair look longer, although it was already pretty damn long. "Are you okay?"

"Hi." The brunette greeted back, trying to compose herself so as not to attract any more attention. "Uh... yeah... it's just..."

"You're not. I can see it. You don't have to pretend, I don't mean any harm." The woman assured, the corner of her lips lifting subtly in a comforting smile.

Quite surprisingly, she believed her. The other woman just looked... gentle. As striking as her violet eyes were, she had a certain air of... goodness around her. Like an aura. And a hippy kind of vibe to her, too. Wicca, maybe. The amethyst pendant dangling from her neck matched her eyes, and the purple and black clothes complimented her overall appearance. She looked... a bit mystic.

Seeing as she couldn't fool the woman, the brunette averted her eyes, her gaze falling to the floor.

"I'm not okay. Not much anyone can do about it, though." She shrugged, trying to not give it much importance, at least on the outside. However, on the inside... it was destroying her. There was _no one_. No family. No friends. Nothing.

"You never know. I'm Kayra Dugan. I'd like to help you, if you'd let me." She smiled again, this time more widely, invitingly.

Not wanting to be impolite, she sighed. "Ally Finn. Don't even bother trying. It'd be a bust."

"I've always liked a challenge. Here." Kayra started digging in the huge esparto grass fabric bag, looking for something, before her face lit up and she held her closed fist toward Ally, something between her fingers. "You are sad, and lost. This should help you." She opened her hand to show Ally a little blue round crystal, offering it to her. "It's apatite."

"I can't take it. I don't know you." Ally refused, shaking her head from side to side.

"Give me a chance and you might, soon."

"Why?" She asked, meeting Kayra's gaze.

She looked young, probably in her early twenties, yet the way the corner of her eyes wrinkled when she smiled reminded Ally of a mother, or grandmother. "Because I think I can help you."

"Well, I think you can't." The brunette resisted again.

"How about you tell me what's bothering you over some tea and I decide if I can or can't?"

Even as her stomach grumbled, aching for something to occupy it, she refused. "I'm pretty sure it'd make you brain go poof if you even tried to comprehend it."

"I'm pretty sure you I can surprise you."

Ally smirked at the platinum blonde's insistence. "I think I have the advantage in this respect."

"I'd love to hear about it."


	3. Chapter 3

She wasn't sure why she'd agreed to it. Maybe because she was starving; she felt like she hadn't eaten in a century -probably because she felt like she'd spent several decades in Hell- and her stomach was making shameful noises she was desperate to muffle. Or maybe she wanted someone who would listen to her, who would try to understand her problems, and be crazy enough to believe them.

Anyway, there she was, at the tea house with way too many aromas mixed together, sitting down next to Kayra. The girl was really odd looking, and that was saying a lot coming from the brunette with the messed hair, men's clothes that were too big on her and the haunted look in her eyes. Kayra was... well, she was all platinum waist long hair, rosy cheeks on porcelain skin and those violet eyes that Ally would swear could see through anything and anyone.

"You've suffered." Was the first thing Kayra commented once they were brought their tea and were settled in the somewhat private corner of the tea house.

Suddenly feeling vulnerable, with the nice lady trying to help her, Ally averted her eyes, clutching the warm cup of tea between her hands. She didn't say anything and instead nodded; words could to make justice to what she'd gone through, anyway.

"I recognize that look. Lost... and tormented. You need peace." Kayra started to analyze her, her gaze intense.

"Doesn't everyone?" She snorted, shifting in her seat.

"Not this much. You... did something. Something hard, didn't you? Something... a sacrifice." Ally met Kayra's eyes, frowning. How could she know? "Oh, I see. A sacrifice for love. For someone you loved. Who was it?"

Her little girl, her sweet baby. She could only hope she'd be alright back in the... other world. That she'd be safe. "My baby sister."

"Oh." Kayra's hand covered hers, rubbing comfortingly. "What did you sacrifice?"

"Me."

She had been right. She _did_ surprise her. It kinda made her want to laugh, but could only manage a sad smirk.

"You died." Kayra whispered in shock, her hand stilling over Ally's. "That torment... the pain... You were in Hell."

"How...?" How did she know? Who exactly was she? Normal people just didn't make those guesses, at least not seriously.

"But... you were not meant to be there, were you? How did you get out?" The blonde's face turned distracted, lost in her own world, muttering as if Ally wasn't there. "That was it... the power... Something powerful... so powerful... Taking a soul from Hell itself... Right in time for the big escape too... Things are going to get ugly... so ugly... Something's stirring down there..." Kayra's eyes focused again, pinning Ally with the most curious look she'd ever received. "Just who are you?"

"No, who are _you_?" Ally countered, tense, ready to jump up in case anything dangerous happened. But she didn't get that dangerous vibe from Kayra. Just... intense. Like power brewing underneath the surface.

"Well, I'm a white witch. And somehow I know you are familiar with the likes of me." The violet-eyed girl smiled softly, dimples appearing in her cheeks.

White witch. Those were the good ones. Like her friends. Should be safe to trust. "Maybe. I've met a couple witches before. Among other things."

The girl's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "You're a Hunter, aren't you?"

The way she said Hunter made her think it held more than the usual meaning of it, just like her title held more significance to her than it did to most of the world. "Slayer, to be more precise, but yeah. Guess I am a hunter."

"Huh. Interesting. Do you have anywhere to go? Someplace to stay in?"

"No. Kinda just got out of Satan's resort." She looked down at her stolen bag and huffed. Life wasn't gonna be quite as easy as it was before, was it? And her idea of easy was definitely not the same as other's. Easy was nightly patrols, getting kicked and punched almost daily, a new threat to face every week. Easy was facing it with people she trusted.

"I own a little cottage in the outskirts of town. I have a spare room if you'd like to stay there." The witch surprised her with the invitation, sounding too good for her to accept so freely.

"Why are you helping me?"

"I think you'll be doing important things. Call it intuition. I'd prefer if you're ready when the time comes, and I think I could help you recover... at least a bit." She tilted her head, her kind expression not betraying her words.

"Recover?"

"I can see the scars in your soul, the wounds from Hell. They'll take some time to heal."

Was it that obvious or was it only Kayra? She'd rather not look like a broken girl in front of her enemies. She somehow knew she wouldn't lack opponents. "You really are a witch, huh?"

"Yes." She grinned again and took her cup of tea delicately between her hands, sipping slowly. "Will you be my guest, then?"

"Don't have any other place to go... So yes." And this time, she allowed herself to relax a bit as she drank the warm tea.

* * *

"This looks like one of those fairytale cottages." Ally voiced as they arrived at Kayra's place, a wooden cabin in the woods near the edge of town, surrounded by plants and trees and even a tiny pond in the _backyard_. Huge backyard called the forest.

"My grandpa built it when he was young. I just added modern commodities, everything else is just the same as when it was built." Kayra informed her proudly, treading through a tiny pebbled pathway leading up to the front door. "Come in, I'll introduce you to my friends."

"Oh, right." Friends. Ally wasn't sure she wanted to meet more people right then, have them know about her.

And thus, she was glad when one of those _friends_ turned out to be a fat lazy cat half asleep near one of the windows in the entrance of the cottage, barely acknowledging their arrival by opening its eyes just enough to identify the newcomer, then shutting them close once more.

"That's Moon. She's lazy and grumpy, but she should be nice enough to you. She doesn't like men that much, but usually lets women walk around without bothering them. She starts hissing any time men come here, though." Kayra shrugged as she guided her new guest through the living room where several herbs hung from a thin rope near the window, pots and jars full of liquids of every colour of the rainbow on shelves all around.

"Good thing I don't know anyone here."

They passed the living room and walked down a tiny corridor with three closed doors. "This is my room. You can come anytime, should you need anything or have any questions. Just... knock." She smiled as she gestured toward the first door. "That's the bathroom. You can use anything you want there. The soaps and perfumes are homemade." She pointed at the second door and finally halted in front of the third. "This will be your room." Turning the knob in her hand, she opened the wooden piece, making it creak lightly as the wooden room came into view. "You can rest here if you are tired, and I'll come wake you up before dinner, or I can show you the rest of the house. Dharma should be here soon enough, too, if you'd like to meet him."

"Dharma?"

"Moon's best friend." Kayra smirked, amused about something, like a secret joke.

"Another cat?" Ally wondered, trying to glance back toward the fat feline in the other room.

"Wolf. He usually comes around at sunset, stays with Moon. They've been best buddies for a few years now."

Ally's eyes widened, incredulous. "Wolf pet?"

"Wolf friend." Kayra corrected, then looked inside the guest room. "You should rest. I'll prepare something to help you sleep nightmare-free."

Oh, right. She hadn't thought about it, but she was bound to have some pretty traumatic nightmares after her little vacation in torture-land. Shit.

"Thank you." Ally let out before Kayra left, getting a warm smile from the witch. "I... I don't know how I can pay you back, but... I'll help with anything I can. Just tell me what you need me to do."

"I'll think of something. There's always something to do around here. Now, just rest. You need it."

* * *

Surprisingly, the wolf-cat friendship was not the strangest thing in that house. A raven called Myst also stopped by every now and then, flew around the house and sometimes liked to startle Ally in her sleep, the girl jumping from bed to find the black bird perched on the bedpost. Damn living alarm clock.

To Ally's shock, Dharma, the grey and white wolf, was her favourite non-human companion in that house. Myst liked to mock her, or so she thought, and Moon almost completely ignored her unless she had some food in her hands. Then she got very affectionate, at least until she gave up whatever meal she was holding. Once that was gone, she went back to pretending the bruentte didn't exist.

Kayra just laughed at her relationship with her animal friends. She had immediately warmed up to the tortured girl, preparing herbal teas and special scented candles to ward off any nightmares the young woman would surely get. They worked most of the time, and in the whole month Ally had been there she'd only woken up screaming twice, drenched in a cold sweat.

Hell did leave scars on her, but she was dealing with it better than any of them would have expected. What stunned her the most during her first week was that she had no physical scars, despite knowing she owned several of them before dying. Bite mark in her neck; gone. Slash on her thigh; gone. Even the little scars on her arms, torso and back. She was... new.

On her second week back among the living, she got a job. It wasn't far from the cottage, just a few miles, and she could walk to and fro. It was in a bar, as a waitress. Good thing she had spent so much time in bars in her teen years. And good thing too she was stronger than any of the men there, as she could stop fights just as soon as they started and throw out anyone looking to start a fight. The owned was certainly happy with her. Pretty, could control the customers, and didn't take shit from anyone. She was perfect for a small bar like that.

On her third week, she found an article about several people disappearing in town, some turning up dead in garbage dumps a couple nights later, drained of blood and with bite marks in their throats. Police were looking for street dogs gone wild.

She was looking for vampires.

When Kayra found out, Ally realized that not only her home didn't exist in that world; vampires weren't the same, either. Wooden stake to the heart wouldn't kill them, and neither would sunlight.

Beheading was the way to go.

She took to patrolling the streets where the disappearances had taken place, getting back into her old routine, her senses sharper than they ever were before.

And that was how she felt the vampires before any of them even came close to her. They didn't know. There was nothing like her in that world. There was nothing with her strength and skills among normal humans. They thought she was just a helpless girl walking down the street at night.

They were shocked when she turned around swinging a machete, the first two of the little group going down in a matter of seconds. Three to go.

* * *

That night, when she got back to the cottage covered in vampire's blood, the machete stained with red, she mused over the differences with any of the previous hunting she'd done. For once, _her_ vampires -the ones from her home world- didn't make her get so dirty. It was simple: stake to the heart, poof, dust. Here, there was blood, and beheadings, and the bodies didn't disappear when it was over.

Kayra certainly noticed the blood all over her new friend. She was awake, worried about Ally, wanting to know she was fine before going to bed.

"Uh, don't worry, none of it is mine." Ally assured as she took her jacket off, heading straight toward the bathroom to wash the blood off her skin and leave her clothes soaking in Kayra's special soap. She'd known Ally was going to take on those vampires, and she'd known there would be blood, and thus hard to clean red stains.

But it was late, and they were both tired. They'd talk about it and get rid of the blood in the morning.

* * *

When morning came and Ally dragged her feet to the kitchen, she found Kayra looking down into her usual cup of tea, her expression thoughtful. Something was going on.

In her month with the witch, Ally had found that Kayra wasn't just an everyday wicca, but a psychic. She had weird dreams, sometimes talked to dead people in them, although it was less creepy that it sounded. It was usually some family member, like her grandpa, sending messages from the afterlife. Like... 'get the little statue out of the box under the sink, the one with the blue tunic. Put it on the window ledge.' Ally thought that home decor advise wasn't the only thing to it, but never got to confirm any of it. Hey, maybe the statue was... some kind of protection? No idea. But it looked cute.

So when she noticed Kayra's absent demeanour the morning after her first hunt since she'd been back on Earth, she knew it had to do something with her dreams.

"Morning." The brunette greeted as she approached the blonde, who finally looked up from her cup. "Everything alright?"

"They're coming."

"Huh?"

"The vamps. They caught your scent. I warded the place so that they couldn't follow it for some time, but it won't hold forever." The Wicca informed her, her eyes sad, yet strong.

"I have to leave."

The witch didn't answer, but Ally didn't really need her to. Kayra was her friend, and so were Moon, Dharma and Myst, as annoying as a couple of them could be. She wouldn't put them in danger like that. She would leave without being forced to.

"Thank you for everything." Ally smiled as she sat next to the girl with the violet eyes. "I'll never forget any of this. But I guess it's time I leave. I'll keep in touch, though."

"I'll call you, too." Kayra smiled back, the dimples less pronounced than when she fully smiled. "I'm sure I'll hear things about you anyways. Big things are coming. Hell's stirring. You'll have a lot to do in the next few months."

"And here I was thinking the big hero deal was over for me." She snorted, knowing it would never be over until she was buried six foot deep. Again.

"The world needs you."

"Guess I won't get bored, then." Ally smirked once before going back to her room to pack the few things she'd bought over the last month.

* * *

By sunset, Ally was renting a motel room in Lincoln, Nebraska, a good five hours away from Kayra's fairytale cottage. She was alone once more, and in need of a job to keep food on the table. She had no free bed and board anymore.

She started job-hunting that same evening, looking out for any evil crawlies as she did so. Multitasking. You never know where the next demon or vampire is gonna appear. Soon enough, she'd landed the afternoon and night shift at a local bar, quite similar to the previous one, except the owned of this one was a pig. He soon learned not to play with Ally, though, after seeing her knock down a six-foot-four rowdy biker that had tried to grope her when she was getting him the beer he'd asked for.

Of course, that earned her respect from the rest of customers, even the owner. The kind that comes with fear.

Her third night on the new job, right after the end of her shift at the bar, a dizzy spell sent her tumbling into an alleyway. She had just been heading toward the motel, tired and ready to get in bed and sleep for ten hours straight, but it was more than exhaustion that had her leaning against a wall, trying to catch her breath.

Something was going on. Call it a hunch, or spider sense. Something _big_ was going on. Supernatural kind of something.

She'd have to keep her eyes open.

* * *

Strange storm clouds over several cities. If she hadn't been before, by then she was sure that what she'd felt was real. Same night. There was no denying it.

* * *

Demons. Not her kind of demons, with horns and noticeable from a thousand miles away, but black-eyed sons of bitches that possessed people and walked around mingling with them, like normal citizens. They made her spider-senses tingle, though. She knew when they were close. Like with vampires.

Heck, she had a radar for anything supernatural.

The swarm of cicadas just outside the city had grabbed her attention, and she'd decided to investigate it the following morning, little did she know she wouldn't have time, what with the woman at a store in the centre of the city killing another one over some shoes. When she'd gone to investigate the murder herself, the tingling started.

Bad sign.

Smashed repeatedly against the windshield of a car.

And then she'd heard three men -two young, one older and in a suit- talking at the store. She'd just been casually investigating the place where the scuffle had apparently started when she caught sight of them. Something about them -maybe the height of the giant with the puppy face- had grabbed her attention.

They'd been talking about _demons_.

"There's none of the usual signs – no blackouts, no loss of control. Totally lucid. Just, she really wanted those shoes. Spilled a glass of holy water on her just to be sure; nothing." The old man had been saying as she eavesdropped from behind a rack full of dresses.

She was in no way ready to face demons. From the old man's description of a possession -Really? Possession? What the heck kind of demons were these?- she knew it wasn't the kind of job she was used to. She needed to do some research, find out how to kill these demons, what worked on them. Back home, it was usually beheading or fire or sometimes stake to the heart, depending on the kind of demon, but something told her it wouldn't work on these ones.

She had to be ready.

* * *

She'd been shivery all through her shift at the bar, and it wasn't the I've-caught-a-cold kind of shiver, but the something's-going-down kind. After researching all through the afternoon, she'd salted the windows and door at her motel room and grabbed a flask of holy water to take with her at all times, and yet she couldn't shake off the feeling that she should be somewhere else.

* * *

Next day, in the afternoon shift, the two young men she'd seen at the store walked into the bar. They didn't seem to be looking for her, so she pretended not to recognize them. See if she could eavesdrop some more, find out more about the demons.

"Hey. What can I get you guys?" She asked as she smiled kindly at them. It'd been a slow afternoon, almost no customers, and the owner, Jerry, was out. She'd gotten quite a bit of reading done while waiting for someone to come in. Luckily, no one had paid any attention to the title of the book she'd bought from the local occult shop: _Dictionnaire Infernal_ by Collin De Plancy. She had blessed the Powers That Be for having studied French for a few years. She could understand enough, even if it was difficult.

"Two beers and your phone number, sweetheart." The shortest one of the men responded cheekily, a shit eating grin on his face.

She rolled her eyes and left to grab the beers, returning a second later and placing them in front of the pair. "Not gonna get anything else from me, unless I get something too."

"And what would that be?" The short one asked, his grin widening slightly.

The one with the puppy face, though, frowned lightly. Smart boy.

"Information." She replied, bending to grab her current pastime and letting it fall on top of the counter in between the boys with a dry thump. Both men stared at it for a second before leaning back a bit and glaring at her. "I want to know more about them and I know you know."

"How?" Puppy-face inquired, wary of her now.

"Saw you at the store after the murder. Heard you talking to the old guy about them." She shrugged and rested her forearms on the counter, leaning slightly closer to them so as to keep the conversation low.

"Sorry, sugar, but it's way outta your league. Better not start messing with things you don't understand." Shorty smirked, thinking his charm would work on her.

"No, see? I'm neck deep in this stuff. I'm gonna do it with your help or without it, it's just gonna take a bit longer. You guys are Hunters too, right? Well, help a fellow Hunter here." She insisted, watching as their faces got more serious with every word.

" _You_ are a Hunter?" Shorty asked again, dismissingly.

"Careful with that tone, Shorty. You don't know shit about me. I just know you can tell me about demons, and I know they're in town, or have been." She'd gotten no shivers that day, they had stopped the previous night, sometime after midnight.

"Who are you?" Puppy-face intervened before Shorty earned a punch from the waitress, who looked just about ready for it.

"Ally Finn."

"Have you ever hunted _anything_? Ghosts, zombies, wraiths?" The giant continued, the blonde one next to him taking a drag of his beer in the meantime.

"Bit of everything. Mostly vampires."

"Really? How do you take out a vampire?" Shorty tested, smug grin still firmly planted in his face.

"Beheading."

Puppy-face and Shorty exchanged a look, silent communication at its finest, and glanced back at the brunette in front of them. "Been doing it long?" The brown-haired one continued, watching her face for any signs of her lying.

"Since I was fifteen. Look, I just want a brief introduction. The basics. How to kill them, how to ward them off, how to find them. I'll find out the rest on my own." She pleaded, changing her tactic to giving them the puppy eyes. That one almost always worked. "I know about the salt, and the holy water." She took her flask out of the back pocket of her jeans and dangled it in front of them.

"How did you get started?"

"Thrown into it the hard way, I guess." She shrugged, not really wanting to tell them, but knowing she needed them to trust her if she wanted the info. "My parents were killed by vamps."

"Oh, sorry." Puppy-face got even more puppy-faced, his eyes empathetic.

"Don't worry."

"Look, princess, even if you _are_ telling us the truth and have faced vamps before, demons are a whole different deal. You won't be able to do it alone. Girl like you, would be dead right away. They are strong, and fast, and have tricks up their sleeve you can't even imagine." Shorty tried to scare her, his jaw clenching as his gaze got firm.

"So do I." She countered, giving him a steely glare. "Like I told you, _princess_ , you don't know shit about me. Just tell me about the demons and I'll be on my merry way."

He sighed and shook his head in exasperation, going back to his beer.

Just when she was about to snap at him and insist some more, the tingling started, making her head whip toward the entrance.

Vamps.

"Shit." She muttered before getting the book back under the counter and grabbing a knife, largest one around. "Get those two back, please." She begged the Hunters and gestured toward the other two customers inside the bar, regulars.

"Wh-what?" Shorty looked up just as Ally jumped over the counter, knife in hand, and stalked toward the door.

"Vamps. Get them out!" She whisper-shouted, getting into a fighting stance.

Puppy-face reacted first and ran over toward the customers, telling them some lie about a couple of rival gangs coming to the bar and hurrying them out through the back. Shorty, instead, took a knife of his own out and stood next to the brunette, who had to hold herself back from knocking him out.

"How do you...?" He started asking, only to be interrupted by the door opening with a bang, three really pale men and one woman stepping inside, death in their eyes.

"Here you are, pretty girl." One of them smirked at seeing the brunette, his gaze lingering in her knife before moving toward Shorty. "Looks like you got yourself Hunter friends." When he looked past them, Ally realized Puppy-face must have come back.

Idiots.

"Don't need them to take you out." She retorted with a smirk of her own, trying to ignore the other two men on her side.

"Oh, overconfident much?" The head-vamp muttered as the other three spread beside him, facing the three Hunters.

"No, it's called skill."

Before any of the others could react -not the men beside her and certainly not the vamps- she'd charged, legs and fists flying at superhuman speed, one of the vampires falling to the floor with his head rolling away in less than a minute.

And then, it was chaos. Puppy-face and _Princess_ joined the fight after recovering from the shock of watching her moves, taking two of the other vampires while Ally exchanged blows with the leader. Her feet landed kicks everywhere, the vampire barely being able to keep up even with his enhanced speed and strength.

Just _who_ was that girl?

She managed to get the leader against the wall and separate the head from the rest of the body with one well-aimed blow with her knife, giving a short respite before turning to check on the Hunters, watching Puppy-face struggle, as he had no knife or anything sharp to get rid of the vampire.

 _Princess_ seemed to be doing well, swinging his knife left to right, so she decided to help the giant first.

In less than eight minutes, the four vamps were out, blood pooling on the floor around them.

Shit, she would have to clean that before Jerry came back.


	4. Chapter 4

"Still thinking I can't handle demons?" She dared _Princess_ as she walked over to the sink to leave the knife. When she turned back toward them, they were still staring at her with their mouths open. "You're gonna catch flies."

That had them snapping their mouths shut, exchanging another one of their silent communication looks and approaching her carefully while she grabbed some clean rags, a bucket of water and a bottle of detergent.

"Can you get these out back, please? Inside the garbage can, I'll set it on fire later." She asked as she set to cleaning the blood stains.

"How did you do that?" Puppy-face inquired as he got a bit closer, wary once again.

"Skill. Told ya, I've been doing it for a few years." She huffed as she scrubbed the floor. "Can you get those back, please? The boss is coming in the morning and I'd rather not have to explain what's happened."

"Bruce Lee wouldn't be able to pull those moves, sugar. What are you?" _Princess_ stood by his partner as he fixed the girl with a cold glare.

"Human, if that's what you're wondering." She growled as she got up to grab the mop.

"No human moves that fast and no human _girl_ can fight vampires with that strength." Shorty hissed.

"My strength, speed, agility, reflexes, stamina, and durability are not that of normal humans and I heal faster, but _I_ am human. Just improved." She retorted as she started moping the floor, trying to ignore the glares the men were shooting her.

"How did you know they were coming before they even opened the door?" The blonde asked as he glanced at the bodies scattered around the bar, his eyes stopping on one of the heads right beside his feet.

"Tingles." She replied without looking at them as she squeezed the bloodied water out of the mop and into an empty bucket. She could feel their inquisitive stares on her, though. "It's like a spider-sense or something. I get the tingles when there's a demon, or vampire, or whatever around. It's not easy to catch me unaware."

"Did you make a deal or...? How is it possible?" The brown-haired one wondered, and she knew he was much nicer than Shorty by far. At least he had some tact.

"No deal. I just... I was chosen. Stop the spread of evil, blah, blah, blah, stand against vampires, demons, etc." She shrugged and looked back a Puppy-face. "I am not a demon, or... anything like that. I am human. I just want to do my job."

"You don't know what you're trying to go against, sweetheart." _Princess_ insisted, if only a bit less rudely.

"Dean..." Puppy-face turned toward the blond, Dean, apparently. "Maybe... We're gonna need as many good hunters as possible. This is just beginning."

"You heard Bobby -or rather, didn't hear-, there's not much hope of us winning this war, Sammy." Dean replied tiredly.

Wait, war? Her eyes shot up, staring at them with her grey orbs wide. "War?"

"Did you hear about the storm clouds a week ago?" Puppy-face, Sammy, looked back at her.

"Yeah. Weird stuff. Knew it wasn't natural. So, something big is coming, right?"

"A bunch of demons were released from Hell a week ago. A lot of them. We just took out the seven deadly sins." Sammy explained, his whole body tense, even though Ally knew it was not just because of her.

As much as she should, Ally couldn't stop the grin from spreading on her face. "Cool." An objective. A goal. She had one. Stop the escaped demons.

Dean arched an eyebrow at her while Sammy frowned. Who gets that reaction when talking about demons escaping hell?

"What? Look, I don't know how _not to_ fight these things. It's what I do. If demons start popping out, I learn how to deal with them and I take them out. I'm just asking for some help in the learning process here." She insisted once more, leaning against the mop and cocking her hip to one side. "Please. You need hunters, I need something to do. It's my mission, my duty."

When Dean sighed heavily, she knew they'd cave in.

* * *

After cleaning the floors, setting the garbage can with the vampire corpses on fire and closing the bar, Sam and Dean walked with her to her motel room, doing that thing they did with the silent communication.

It was getting on her nerves, to be honest, but she would only have to stand it until they'd told her about the demons.

She saw how their eyes scanned her room and took in the lines of salt on the windows and doors and the candles and herbs on her bedside table. She walked inside the room and sat down on her bed, gesturing with her head toward the chairs next to the coffee table for them. As they settled down, she grabbed a notebook and a pen from her nightstand, placed them on her lap and folded her legs under her.

"I have some water if you're thirsty." She offered as she shrugged her jacket off, checking if she had any scratches or bruises. She was still getting used to being so new, and when she did get a bruise, she healed so fast it was gone by morning.

"No beer?" Dean pouted, looking at the tiny fridge on the other side of the room.

"Sorry, princess, I don't drink alcohol."

"What are you? Fourteen?" He whined, staring at her as if she'd grown a second head.

"Eighteen." Knowing Dean would be more difficult to handle, she turned toward Sam. "So, I know salt lines keep them away, and holy water is like acid... But how do you expel them from the bodies?"

"Exorcism." Sam answered briefly as he took a leather bound notebook from his jacket. "I have a couple of them, if you want to copy them. I suggest you memorize one, at least."

"That should be easy." She grinned and stretched from the bed to take the notebook, admiring the neat handwriting. It looked like 'How to become a Hunter 101'.

"They can be pretty long, sugar."

"I have good memory, don't worry, princess."

She saw him grimace at the nickname that he'd gotten stuck with, but he simply huffed and averted his eyes while she copied the Latin words.

Sam, instead, looked amused at Ally's way of handling his brother, yet also interested in the girl currently focused on his father's journal. "So you've been doing this for about three years? Alone?"

"Nah, I had a group of friends back in California, we used to deal with this things together. Can't go back to them now, though, long story, so I'll be flying solo for some time."

"It can get pretty hard, you know." Sam warned her, leaning forward on his forearms.

She shrugged and ducked her head, pretending to read while she tried not to let them see her face. "I know. But I don't have a choice."

Puppy-face was still curious, as was natural, so he insisted a bit more. "No more family?"

"No."

"Nothing?"

"No."

"Well, don't tell me that's not a bit suspicious." Dean remarked, his smug smirk in place again.

"I don't care what you think. I have no more family around. There's a friend, but I don't want my job to put her in danger." She finished copying the last sentence and held the notebook out for Sam to take. "Thanks. Any other thing I should know?"

And while Dean obviously didn't trust her, Sam was nice enough, explaining everything he could about demons to her. His brother added something every now and then, but it was mostly Sam doing the teaching. He was good at it.

Even though she knew she'd be so much more comfortable with them gone, she had to admit they'd helped her quite a lot in getting started with the demon deal, so she invited them to stay in her room for the night, although they did insist she didn't give up the bed. Ally grabbed something to eat for the three of them from the diner down the street and they had a surprisingly nice dinner while watching TV. Dean was even fun to chat with. Bicker, more like, but still quite fun.

* * *

For the third time since she'd been back, nightmares assaulted her sleep. She didn't understand why -she'd taken the herbal tea and lit the scented candles Kayra had made for her- but the phantom slashes and burns were back, the screams echoing in her head, her arms and legs strained once more.

No. No, no, no. She didn't want it. She was out. She was out. She wasn't in Hell. She was out!

She jolted in bed, gasping for air, and realized there were two people on the floor beside her bed, panting just like she was. Not demons, not vampires, nothing supernatural.

Sam and Dean.

"Shit." She breathed out and slumped back into the pillows, throwing her arm over her eyes. "I was screaming, wasn't I?"

"Uh, yeah." She heard Sam get up, his brother following him, and tower over her bed. "Is... Nightmares, right?"

"Yeah. Sorry I woke you. I didn't think I'd have them tonight."

"Often have nightmares like those?" Dean asked, his voice much more serious and less smug than earlier that night.

"No. This is like... the third time." She uncovered her face and sat up. "Sorry." She smiled sheepishly and looked around, switching the bedside lamp on so she could see them. "You tried to wake me, huh?" She asked, guessing from their wrinkly clothes and their previous positions on the floor. They both nodded, sharing a look before looking back at her. "Didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No." Sam assured her, hesitating before sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Uhm... we've been thinking and... Someone with your skills, you obviously have some experience, and... well, we were thinking that maybe... you'd like to meet someone we know. He's the best hunter out there. Knows much more than we do. We can ask him to teach you some things, if you want to. He'll probably want to meet you, know more about your abilities."

"The old man you saw us with?" Dean reminded her, crossing his arms over his chest as he still stood.

Any trace of the nightmares left her face as a huge smile stretched her lips, glancing back and forth between the brothers to make sure they were not joking. "Really?"

"Yeah. We can call him in the morning and take you to his place. He lives in Sioux Falls. Can probably teach you more than anyone else about the supernatural."

"Thank you!" She bounced on the bed and threw her arms around Sam, hugging him tightly, the young man barely able to breath as she did so. When she let the youngest go, she looked at Dean and hesitated. She felt more comfortable with Sam, and Dean was starting to get that flirty smirk than she didn't trust one bit.

"No hug for me?" He taunted when he saw her trying to decide if she should or not.

"No." She concluded, scooting back to the head of the bed. "Really, guys, thanks. I... I really appreciate it. There so much bullshit on lore and demons out there that it would take me quite some time to get the facts straight."

"Don't mention it. After all, we do need all the help we can get." Sam smiled softly, contrasting with his brother's smug one.

* * *

The next day, without even leaving a note for that Jerry pig, Ally set into a three-hour journey with the Winchester brothers. They'd called Bobby while they had breakfast, and the man had apparently been interested enough in finding more about her that he'd agreed to take her in as long as she worked for their side.

Needless to say, she was ecstatic. She was going to be taught all there was to know about the supernatural of that world. She felt like she was going back to school; good thing she'd always loved it. She hadn't spent much time receiving traditional education before, being home schooled and all, but she'd always loved to study.

By midday, Dean had parked the Impala on Singer Salvage Yard, in front of an old looking house among acres of stacked cars, waiting to be put to use.

The old man from the store, although looking quite different now that he'd ditched the suit, was waiting for them at the front porch, arms crossed over his chest.

When Ally and the boys got out of the car, she could have sworn his eyebrows raised a bit in surprise, but he immediately went back to an impassive-grumpy face.

Even though Bobby was a bit grouchy and seemed to have a dry sense of humour, she liked him right away. He reminded her of her own father. But what really got her to love him and that place was the sight that welcomed her the moment she stepped into his living room.

Books.

Mountains and mountains of books on supernatural lore. Her paradise.

Bobby seemed to appreciate her admiration toward his collection, and set to questioning her on her background as soon as the boys left, not an hour after dropping her at the house. He didn't get much out of her, and yet he realized she was dead-set at bringing evil creatures down, even if it killed her.

Good enough for him. If what the boys had told him about her skills was true, she was going to be a valuable asset in next few months. But first, he had to prepare her to face what was coming.

* * *

Bobby had to admit that girl was a box full of surprises. Despite looking... fragile, to say the least, she could lift boxes and mountains of books that would probably make him break his back if he even tried. And she did it with apparent ease. Super strength, right. Dean had told him about that.

She was also an excellent student, he learned only a couple days after the boys had left, when she told him she'd already gone over the first books he'd given her on demons. Avid reader, she was. She'd later explained that she was a whiz kid, and had thus undergone an special education during her teen years. One that included some light military training, just for fun, she'd said.

That explained her ease when handling weapons, although she did seem to be more accustomed to knifes, stakes and even crossbows than shotguns and hand guns. So he decided to spend a bit more time improving her aim with fire weapons and less on close-combat. After all, they boys had been witness to some 'Bruce Lee meets Chuck Norris fighting skills', as Dean had so eloquently put it.

One thing she'd been having difficulty learning, though, was how to drive. He'd been bewildered at finding out she couldn't drive, although the only sign of surprise in his face had been the light arching of his eyebrows under the cap of his usual trucker's hat. Bobby couldn't, for the life of him, imagine why she couldn't, until he got into an old car he'd been working on for some time with her behind the wheel.

She could face vampires and jump at the first chance of hunting demons and not bat an eyelash, yet she got ridiculously nervous when told to drive. She kept glancing at him even as he growled to keep her eyes on the road, lucky they were on an almost deserted straight road near his place. Her whole body got tense and extremely shaky, her hands started to sweat, and she kept squeaking every time they went over a crack on the pavement. Yet, he was stubborn as hell, and he'd decided to teach her how to drive. However long it too.

So after a month and a half with him, he was proud to say the girl was ready. He'd never admit that he'd grown used to her presence and company, the smiles and her endless thirst for knowledge. He'd also gotten used to waking up at night as she started screaming in her sleep, although that would only happen once every couple of weeks, at most. Sam had warned him about it, but the boy would have never suspected the origin of those nightmares.

Bobby did. Having spent so much time with the girl, taking her with him on a couple small hunts, talking with her about what she knew, he'd come to discover more about her. It was not very clear, but he did know she'd had a family, two sisters, and that she might be more like Dean than the eldest living Winchester would care to admit.

One thing was clear for Bobby. Ally loved her sisters and she had somehow ended up in Hell for the youngest one. How, was a mystery. Where the other one was, he had no idea. How she'd gotten out, not even she knew.

* * *

The nervousness of being the one behind the wheel still lingered even after the first half hour and over a month driving with Bobby, but it only occupied the back of her mind, allowing her to think about other issues, like the end of her stay with the old man and her 'graduation' as a hunter. She'd even gotten her graduation gift, the old DeSoto Bobby had caught her eyeing on her first few days with him. He'd repaired it and they'd painted it black together the previous week, knowing she'd be leaving to face the world soon.

She'd truly enjoyed her time with the old hunter, she'd learned so much she was surprised she'd been able to fit all that new information inside her crammed mind. And not only that, but she'd forged new friendships, mainly with Bobby, but also with Sam, who called regularly to talk to the grumpy mechanic and used the long travelling hours to chat with her about everything and anything. She hadn't seen him since they'd left her at Bobby's, yet she felt like she'd known him for years.

Dean was a whole different matter. She'd only talked to him a couple times, although she'd heard him speaking with Sam in the background during some of the youngest one's calls. She'd learnt that he was almost always the one driving -he loved his car with a passion- and his taste in music was absolutely perfect. She was usually able to recognize the songs while she talked to Puppy-face.

The first time Bobby had heard her refer to Dean as _Princess_ , he'd snorted, but didn't comment on it. He seemed to be glad that the boys and her kept in touch, and encouraged her conversations with Sam by asking her if she wanted to talk to him every time the boy called him.

And there she was going. To meet the boys. Hello, seventeen-hour-drive.

* * *

It was well into the night when she got to Black Rock, running on caffeine and the slight dread that driving still caused her. She was surprised when it was Dean who answered the phone, and even more when he just gave her the address of the motel they were staying in and told her to hurry.

Bad sign.

* * *

"Sam! What the hell happened to you?" She screamed out when Dean opened their motel room door for her, throwing her duffel bag aside and running to the youngest Winchester sitting on a chair next to the little table in the room, holding a bundle of gauze to his shoulder, drenched in blood.

"I was shot." He explained with a grimace when Ally pushed his hand to look at the bullet hole.

"Hello to you too, sweetheart." They heard Dean mutter as he rummaged through the first aid kit.

"Why? Who did it?" She asked as she examined the wound, ignoring the blonde behind her.

"Bela Talbot." Sam answered and grabbed a couple pills and a water bottle from Dean, swallowing them in one go.

Ally frowned, taking the bottle of alcohol from the table and some more gauze. "Who's that?"

"Didn't Bobby tell you?" Sam looked directly into her eyes, his face twisted in pain as he braced himself for more. He was trying to look anywhere but at the wound in his shoulder, currently being drenched in alcohol by the brunette.

"I've been on the road since eight in the morning and Bobby knows not to call me when I'm driving." She grumbled, focused on cleaning the hole. "Demon?"

"Thief." Dean corrected her, watching her patch his brother up. "She wanted a rabbit's foot from our dad's storage place. Sent a couple men to steal it for her, they ended up opening the curse-box containing it and one of them bit the big one. Sam was cursed, I was cursed, we were about to destroy the rabbit foot to lift the curse when she turned up. Shot Sammy before she herself was jinxed. Had to let us destroy it and leave after that." The blonde summed up, catching her gaze every time she glanced up from Sam's shoulder, currently being stitched closed.

"Huh."

"I can do that, you know." He continued, gesturing toward the wound. "Was about to when you got here."

"Don't take this the wrong way, princess, it sounds like it's been a heck of a long day for you too, but you look tired and I'm seriously caffeinated. You should rest." She suggested and pierced Sam's skin with the needle one last time. "It's almost done, anyway."

He rolled his eyes but refrained from saying anything else, moving over to the couch and letting himself plop down on it.

"You do realize there are two beds here, right?"

"Sammy's injured. You take the other. I'm alright here." Dean differed as he set on taking his boots off, soon enough lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

She sighed and turned her eyes upon Sam once again, puppy eyes at the ready. "It's alright. It's just been a long day, as you said."

"Bet it's been." She agreed as she bandaged the wound carefully, trying not to cause him any more pain. "There. Done. You should rest too now."

"As you should. Said it yourself, you've been driving for eighteen hours. How was it, anyway? Driving for so long?"

"Nerve-wrecking. Don't know why princess there enjoys it that much." She shuddered and grabbed her bag from the floor, heading toward the bathroom to change into her night clothes and go to bed. "Goodnight, Sam, princess."

"'Night, Ally." Came Sam's reply, and none from Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

Ally could see Sam was awake by the time she opened her eyes, although he was still lying down, while Dean was fast asleep on the couch. She stretched under the covers, squeezing her eyes shut and purring softly at the pleasant sensation of her muscles getting taut, catching the youngest Winchester's attention.

"How are you feeling, Sam?" She asked when she relaxed again, sitting up on bed.

"Like someone shot me." He laughed, the corner of his lips quirking. "Sleep well?"

She pulled the covers away from her and stood up, rubbing her eyes as she dragged her feet to where her bag rested. "Yeah. I'm hungry now, though. Barely ate anything yesterday, what with all the coffee I had. I'll go grab something to eat. What do you want?" She looked at Sam from over her shoulder, the boy watching her move around the room.

"Coffee, black and... fruit if there's any, please."

"What about princess?" She shook her head toward the sleeping beauty on the couch while walking toward the bathroom, her clothes for the day in one hand, hair brush on the other.

Sam lifted his head a bit, looking over toward his brother and frowning lightly. "Anything greasy and dripping cholesterol. And coffee."

"Great." She smirked as she stepped into the bathroom, paused and turned around. "Want some pain meds and water while I go get the food?"

"Please and thank you." He groaned and let his head fall back into the pillows, his good arm thrown over his eyes.

"You're welcome." She grinned and slipped a couple pills from the bottle on the coffee table, handing them over to her injured friend along with some water.

* * *

Princess was up and about when Ally got back to the motel room, balancing the food and drinks in her arms as she kicked the door shut with her feet, Sam rushing to help her when he saw her.

Dean grunted approvingly when he opened the bag with the scrambled eggs, ham, sausage, cheese and toast, immediately digging in, while his brother and new partner enjoyed their cut up fruit, eyeing the blonde's breakfast with a frown.

"It looks like he'll choke any moment." Ally commented in a whisper as they watched Dean from the corner of their eyes.

"Better get used to it. He's always like that. Even worse with pie." The brown haired man warned, finally tearing his eyes off his brother. "So, how's it been with Bobby this last month?"

"Pretty cool. He let me take a couple books with me too, as long as I give them back unscathed. Right now I'm reading this book on Sumerian religious practices and myths. Did you know their priests would read chicken and lamb livers to guess what the gods wanted as sacrifices?" Her face brightened when she noticed Sam smiling in amusement at her enthusiasm. "Disgusting, but hey, at least it's entertaining." She shrugged, focusing back on her food.

"And the training? What's his take on that?"

"He says I've got 'one hell of a right hook'. I disagree. My left is awesome too." She grinned, catching Dean's gaze on them. "You're done already?"

"Yeah. So when you two girls are done chatting, now that you won't be on your phones half the day, we can pack up and leave. Don't forget the panties, sweetheart." He smirked at the end, gesturing with his head toward her half open bag, her pink underwear visible.

"Aw, he wants us to pay attention to him too." She mocked, tilting her head with a fake empathetic expression on her face.

"Bite me." He growled as he strode toward his own bag.

"Sorry, princess, I'm a vegetarian. I don't eat pork." She countered, smirking one last time before leaving him alone for the time.

* * *

Following a quick salt and burn job near Detroit a week after Sam was shot -during which he'd been more than happy to stay in and do some research-, the Winchesters and Ally made their way back to Bobby's, planning on giving the boys a little break while Sam healed. There'd been no demonic omens that they'd heard of in the last weeks, yet they were sure something was bound to happen. Demons weren't the kind to just lay low and not wreck havoc, specially after being released from Hell.

Bobby used that chance to make Dean teach Ally how to melt silver bullets, watching her progress while he himself worked on the Colt. Damn thing wouldn't make a demon yelp, not since they'd used the last bullet on Yellow Eyes.

The eldest Winchester and Ally still couldn't have a conversation without ending up bickering about anything and everything, making Sam, always in the middle, shake his head and get as far away as possible while trying to hide an amused smile.

And though the pair was always bantering like children, they found they made a hell of a team during the case in Detroit, Dean's experience and Ally's skills complimenting each other, making it a lot more easier finish the job quickly.

"Hey." Sam walked into the living room, where the other three hunters were focused on their tasks -Bobby trying to repair the Colt, Dean and Ally melting silver into bullets. "Here you go. Welcome to the con-club." He smiled as he left a pile of cards next to Ally. Fake ID's, credit cards and so on.

"Thanks." She grinned and started looking through the stack before putting them away.

"Hey, what's up?" Dean greeted, eyeing the newspaper in his brother's hands.

"Might've found some omens in Ohio. Dry lightning, barometric-pressure drop."

"Well, that's thrilling."

"More than Dr. Sexy M.D." Ally muttered to herself as she stared fixedly at the melted silver in front of her. She'd caught Dean watching that stupid TV show the previous week, making her remember another certain blond who enjoyed cheesy soap operas, her heart clenching painfully. She couldn't go back, might as well get over it.

She could feel Dean glare at her, feel his gaze burning the back of her head, but never looked up to confirm it.

"Plus, some guy blows his head off in a church and another goes postal in a hobby shop before the cops take him out. Might be demonic omens." Sam added, ignoring what was looking like another one of their squabbles.

"Or it could just be a suicide and a psycho scrapbooker." Dean countered reluctantly.

"Yeah, but it's our best lead since Lincoln." The youngest Winchester insisted, looking at Ally for support.

"Hey, won't hurt to check it out. Your shoulder's alright, isn't it?" The brunette asked, tilting her head curiously.

Dean caved in, sighing softly when Ally took Sam's side. Those two were getting really buddy-buddy, always joining forces against him. "Where in Ohio?"

"Elizabethville. It's a half-dead factory town in the rust belt."

The blonde Winchester was not very excited about it, a frown creasing his forehead as he almost begged for an alternative. "There's got to be a demon or two in South Beach."

Sam quirked a smile and shook his head lightly, used to his brother's ways. "Sorry, Hef. Maybe next time. How's it going, Bobby?"

The old man, who'd been keeping quiet while he examined the structure of the Colt, lacked the enthusiasm of the youngsters around him. "Slow."

"Eh, I tell you, it's a little sad seeing the Colt like that." Dean voiced, barely lifting his head to look at the piece of metal.

"Well, the only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick."

Not having anything better to think about, Sam jumped right in. "So what makes it tick?"

The only answer that came from Bobby was an impassive look thrown Sam's way, a warning, 'don't push me' written on his face.

Ally jumped from her seat, excited about finally facing demons, and thus grabbing her jacket and heading toward the door in just a couple seconds.

Dean made to follow her, albeit more calmly, taking his jacket from the back of his chair. "So, if we want to go check out these omens in Ohio… you think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?"

While the brown haired Winchester snorted and Ally held back a chuckle, Bobby merely straightened in his seat and lifted his face, blank. "Well, it won't kill demons by then, but I can promise you it'll kill _you_."

The brothers laughed, making their way to Ally, standing right beside the door. Dean was really smiling this time, something not so common except for when he was flirting. "All right, come on, we're wasting the daylight."

Sam was right beside his brother, looking over his shoulder toward his surrogate father. "See you, Bobby."

"Bye, Bobby!" Came Ally's shout from the entrance, already out of sight.

"Hey! You three run into anything -anything- you call me." The old man reminded them, getting them serious one more time.

* * *

On the way to Elizabethville, Dean stopped by a tattoo parlour in a town in the middle of nowhere. Sam had been reading more about the new case on the newspaper, while Ally had been writing on her new hunter's journal, in the middle of an entry on revenants. She'd already faced vampires, ghosts and wendigos in that world -the last two during her training with Bobby- and had everything she knew on those and demons written down on the journal. The Winchesters often let her read the entries in their father's one, but she'd rather have a compilation of her own. She wasn't always gonna be with the boys, after all. Although, she had to admit that they were good company.

So when the car parked right in front of the dark store with dozens of pictures of previous works stuck to the window, she furrowed her brow and glanced at the occupants of the front seats.

"Any of you looking for a new tattoo?" She asked out loud. She knew that at least Sam had a tattoo, a symbol over his left breast, but she didn't know about Dean.

"Not for us, for you." The blonde replied as he twisted in place to look at her, his arm going over the back of the driver's seat.

"Uh, don't think so."

"It's not just a tattoo, Alls." Sam intervened, pulling the top of his t-shirt to reveal his own. "It's an anti-possession tattoo. Prevents demons from getting inside of us. Trust us, it's necessary, even more if we're dealing with demons in this case."

"Ugh..." She scowled, not really looking forward to getting her skin inked. "Doesn't have to be there, does it? I can get it anywhere?"

"Yeah. As long as it's the same symbol, you can get it on your butt if you want." Dean answered, the corner of his lips already turning slightly up.

She rolled her eyes, knowing they'd spent too much time in the car in silence, in peace, and he was hardly gonna keep that up any longer. "And let me guess, you'd _love_ to watch that process." Yet she had to admit, their arguments were entertaining.

"If you invite me." He shrugged, his face holding a full smirk by then.

"Uh, let me think about it... _No_." She gave him a dry glare before looking back at Sam. "Can it be smaller?"

"Yeah, sure." He nodded, already amused by the pair.

"Alright. Let's get this over with." She sighed and got out of the car, the boys following her.

* * *

It was itchy, slightly painful and it required much more attention than she'd ever wanted to give it, but she really had no choice.

Moreover, the boys wouldn't stop teasing her and laughing about her expression every time she had to hold back from scratching her newly inked skin, right beneath her right shoulder blade, choosing to finger the tears in her jean shorts instead, although it proved to be a poor distraction for her hands.

"This sucks." She complained once more as they found a motel in Elizabethville, shifting in her seat as she tried to move her shoulders so the itching stopped.

Dean was apparently tired of her grouchy mood, growling a bit as he got out of the car. "Stop whining. It's just a tattoo. I'm sure you've had worse."

"Of course I have. I was stabbed with a crowbar not too long ago, but I can't reach it!" She screamed in frustration as she tugged at the back of her ripped second-hand Guns n' Roses t-shirt, making the boys snicker. She soon gave up and followed them out, taking her bag from the trunk before turning toward the motel and pausing. "Uh, right, you guys go ahead, I have to got to the drugstore and buy the lotion for the tattoo. Text me the room number when you get it." She quickly explained before running off down the street toward the drugstore they'd seen on the way to the motel.

* * *

After buying the lotion -and a couple more feminine hygiene things- she walked back to the motel, taking to Kayra on her phone. The witch and her had been calling each other in a weekly basis, telling each other about the ups and downs since Ally'd left the cottage. There wasn't much to talk about, but they still liked to know the other was fine. The conversation didn't last long, so she'd already hung by the time she made it to the motel room, knocking on the door as she heard several voices coming from the inside. It wasn't just the Winchesters, although she was pretty sure that was the correct door. Sam had texted her, _number 7_. That was number 7.

Who else was there?

Soon enough, Sam opened the door and let her in, already out of the hideous jacket of the suit he'd used when he and Dean had gone to talk to Father Gil at the church. She'd stayed in the car, she couldn't really pass as an insurance agent and she was a really bad liar, so she'd spent the time investigating the dead guys with Sam's laptop.

As she'd imagined, there was another man in the room with the Winchesters, sitting down on the couch. He immediately raised his eyebrows at seeing her come in, glancing at the eldest of the brothers for a moment. "That your sister too?" He smirked, some kind of hidden joke behind his words.

"No." Ally and Dean answered at once, sharing a look for a second before she turned to leave her things on one of the beds.

"She's a friend of ours. Hunter, too. Ally, this is Richie. Richie, Ally. He's friends with Dean." Sam quickly introduced them, tugging at his tie as he tried to take it off.

"Hey." Ally nodded at the new man, who smirked at her the same way Dean did the first time he saw her.

"Where'd you find her?" The goofy man asked Dean, barely taking his eyes off her, making her shift uncomfortably and look at Sam and away from Richie.

"Bar in Lincoln. So you find anything in this town, anyway?" Dean was fumbling with his bag, but still managed to shoot a look at his friend, frowning at the way his eyes were glued to Ally.

"Ah, no. I got nothing." He responded distractedly, before focusing again. "Oh, wait a minute. You mean as in demons and whatnot?"

"Yeah."

"No, I got nothing."

"Typical. What about your sister back there?"

"Oh, honestly? She definitely had the devil in her, but she wasn't no demon, you know what I'm saying?" He smiled smugly once again and scooted back in the couch. "Right. Seriously." And like a spell, he put on his hunter face, all business, and stood up from the couch, walking over to Dean. "Church guy, hobby-shop guy -they were lunch meat by the time I got there. Hey maybe they were possessed, but I can't prove it."

"Yeah, that's where we are, too. You know, let's just say that demons are possessing people in this town. You know, raising hell..."

"Scaring the shit out of a nun..." Ally added to the list as she sat near the pillows on one of the beds, legs crossed, bag set between them.

Dean wondered, sitting on the edge of the bed as he took his shoes off, glancing at Ally as if she had the answer. "Yeah, but why would a demon blow his brains out?"

"And in a church. There must be a reason why he didn't do it somewhere else." The brunette continued, once again rolling her shoulders as the itching started.

"Well, for fun? You know he wrecks one body, moves to another. You know, like taking a stolen car for a joyride."

"I will never understand that..." Ally muttered, getting a sympathetic smile from Sam.

"Anybody else left in the town that fits the profile -you know, nice guy turned douche, still breathing?"

"There's Trotter."

"Who's that?" Sam inquired as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt, tie still hanging from his neck, albeit loosely.

"Well, he used to be head of the Rotary Club. And then people say he turned bastard all of a sudden? Brought in the gambling, the hookers... Ah, he practically owns this whole town."

While Richie talked, Dean discovered the _Magic Fingers_ unit on the bedside table, right beside Ally, his face lighting up like a kid's on Christmas morning. She had to admit he was adorable in his own way. Mischievous kid kind of adorable, instead of Sammy's puppy kind of adorable. She found herself liking their company more and more, which in turn kept her mind occupied, and thus prevented her from getting so homesick, so nostalgic. She was proud to say she'd only had two breakdowns since she'd gotten out of Hell. One when she'd met Kayra, another one during her time with Bobby, when he'd asked her about her family. She'd tried to avoid answering, but the man was giving her shelter and helping her, and he'd made her feel guilty about it without even saying a word. So she'd choked down a sob and said she used to have two sisters, before running out of the room to try to calm herself down, heaving as she thought of what she'd said. _She used to have two sisters_.

They were no more. She'd never see them again.

She was brought out of her depressing thoughts by Sam questioning Richie still, nobody noticing her sudden stillness. "Know where we could find him?"

"Oh, he'll be at his bar in a few hours."

Bar. She really didn't want to go to a bar. She'd been working in bars, but there really wasn't much more she could do in those. She didn't drink alcohol, she didn't flirt, she didn't like drunken people, or strangers trying to hit on her and from Richie's description, she was pretty sure there'd be hookers right and left. Not her favourite atmosphere.

Luckily for her, Dean wasn't really excited about taking her to said bar either. "You should stay here, find out more about our dead guys."

"Not gonna argue with you on that." She agreed, taking Sam's laptop from him. "You guys find anything, call me. I'll by trying not to scratch that blasted mark." She scrunched her face as a new wave of itchiness hit her, like mocking her.


End file.
